


Sleepover

by anneapocalypse



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Anal Sex, Background Relationships, Condoms, Cunnilingus, Dom/sub, Explicit Sexual Content, Fellatio, Femdom, Implied/Referenced Body Image Issues, Multi, Oral Sex, Pegging, Porn with Feelings, Praise Kink, Rank Kink, Rimming, Safe Sane and Consensual, Safer Sex, Threesome - F/M/M, Vaginal Sex, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-19
Updated: 2019-12-19
Packaged: 2021-02-26 21:00:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,304
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21855214
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anneapocalypse/pseuds/anneapocalypse
Summary: Carolina commandeers Blue Base for a night alone with Maine and Wash.
Relationships: Agent Carolina/The Meta | Agent Maine/Agent Washington
Comments: 12
Kudos: 33





	Sleepover

**Author's Note:**

> This is first and foremost Merry Kinkmas to Me. This is 100% self-indulgent Decemberfic and I make no apologies for either its indulgences or its failings. If it's your thing, I hope you enjoy it.
> 
> This can be considered loosely a divergence from Dropverse set after most of the events of The Landing. You absolutely do NOT need to have read that series. All you need to know here is that this is a Maine Lives AU, set sometime after season 10 and before Hargrove tracked down the gang, and everyone is currently residing in Valhalla. Also Kaikaina Grif is here because I do what I want. Kai/Tucker is a background ship.

The truth is they probably never would've gotten here without Maine.

None of them are the same people they were in Freelancer. Not Carolina, not Wash, not Maine either. She and Wash… well, they've always had their rough edges, never quite fitting. And after her return… maybe the problem was that they kept trying to look at each other like the people they used to be.

Finding Maine alive changed everything. For both of them, but in different ways.

Wash took his time coming around. He _knew_ Maine as the Meta, Carolina had to remind herself, and the memory of fighting someone _else,_ some other entity in his old friend's body, was still all too fresh in his mind. (Her memory of the Meta is mere moments, distant but still sharp sometimes when she closes her eyes—the hand around her throat that was and was not Maine's, the harsh expressionlessness of his posture against the falling snow.) That was still too close, the memory of his old friend still too far—and Maine's return, still too good to be true. Wash kept to Blue Base, regarded Maine with suspicion. Waiting for the other shoe to drop, because for Wash, it always did.

She spent her nights with Maine at Red Base, and her days at Blue, and she and Wash didn't talk about it.

Somewhere along the way, something changed.

Maybe it was the day Wash gave in, and started learning ASL. Maybe it began before that. It took time, even as it became unavoidably obvious to everyone that Maine didn't want Epsilon, didn't want to be anywhere near him, that beneath everything Sigma had done to him, _Maine_ had survived. Even as the Reds and Blues accepted his presence and went on with their lives. Even as Wash made his first clumsy forays into speaking with his hands, into understanding Maine—not just comprehending, but _listening_.

They all started listening better, maybe.

There are moments that stand out—sitting with Maine on the couch in Red Base, fingers casually intertwined, watching Tucker and the Grifs play video games, Sarge muttering about his base being full of dirty Blues, and Wash pausing on his way in to ask Tucker something, his eyes landing on her and Maine, and lingering.

The first time Maine made a face at Wash—about something, Carolina can't even remember what—and Wash burst out laughing, and Maine's big shoulders shook with silent laughter too, and Carolina watched them looking at each other with pure happiness on their faces and something pulled in her chest.

Or the moment in Blue Base when, after weeks of avoiding talking about anything more serious than rations and training exercises, Wash paused abruptly in the middle of cooking his breakfast and turned to face her, clasping his hands behind his back like he didn't know what to do with them, and said, "Hey. Uh. I'm glad you're here, you know."

Carolina nearly froze, startled into silence before she managed to get out the words, "I—thank you," which didn't at all convey the way she felt, and then added quickly, "Don't burn your eggs."

She started making sort of a semi-conscious effort just to… be around Wash more. With Maine allowed over to Blue Base and the teams functionally irrelevant at this point, that only got easier. At first she told herself it was just so that Wash wouldn't feel left out. The three of them, they were the last of the Freelancers, after all, and for a time Wash had believed he was the _last._ They all know, deeply and viscerally, how alone it was possible to feel.

She just didn't want Wash to be lonely. That's what it was.

But of course Wash wasn't lonely. Blue Team had pretty much adopted Wash wholesale; he spent plenty of time with Tucker and Caboose, and he was getting to know Kaikaina, who had rejoined them more recently. Of course, Carolina spending so much time with Maine _did_ throw kind of a wrench in things, because when she was with Maine, Church hung out with Tucker and Caboose, and Church didn't mask his resentment of Wash particularly well.

Still, it wasn't like Wash was alone.

Still.

Still when they talked about meeting at Red Base for a private movie night, Maine's hands formed a simple, immediate question: "Wash?"

And Carolina, without even thinking, replied: "Yeah, yeah of course."

Maine's bulk took up easily half of Red Base's couch, which creaked a little under his weight even out of armor, so there was no way they were getting three of them on it; _somebody_ was going to be sitting on the floor. And it wasn't particularly out of character for Maine to take the floor. Maine had always liked the floor. In more ways than one. He settled against the base of the couch, his shoulder resting comfortably against Carolina's knee on one side.

And Wash's on the other.

Carolina found her eyes drifting to the place where they casually touched, and she noticed that Wash never moved away. He stretched his leg once, his joints making a quiet _pop_ , and then settled right back into place, touching Maine.

When she leaned nonchalantly, just enough to see the expression on Maine's face, it was one of utter contentment.

It felt natural, the three of them growing closer.

That didn't make _talking_ about it any easier.

"So," said Carolina quietly one night, up on the roof of Red Base. "About Wash."

Maine nodded, understanding.

"Wash," she said the next morning over coffee. "Can we… talk? The three of us?"

Wash's gray eyes went wide for a moment over his steel coffee cup, and there was something intimately familiar about the way he took a quick swallow to buy himself a few seconds to process the question. A familiarity that settled quietly in her chest in the moments before he spoke.

"Yeah," Wash said, and he sounded—not _as_ startled as Carolina might have expected. "Yeah, sure."

Of course, he didn't have to ask who she meant by _the three of us._

With other partners, Carolina wouldn't be opposed to dropping feelings and initiating sex immediately. Maybe not even in that order. With Maine… well, the sex came easy, and it was easy not to talk about the rest. Maybe if they'd done more talking… well. That's the past, and they've got a second chance beyond what either of them could ever have asked for.

The thing about Wash is, he doesn't like improvising. Or surprises. They both know that about him. So springing this on him and then immediately dragging him to bed… yeah, it just seemed like it might backfire on them.

So they had to do the _talking_ thing first. It was… the right thing to do, even if Carolina approached it with a deep sense of dread in the pit of her stomach because words were hard and feelings were harder.

You might not peg Maine for the one to make it all work, considering.

The thing about Maine is, he'll surprise you.

"So," Carolina said, "I'm. We're. We..."

That's about as far as she got before her mind just went helplessly blank. The roar of the waterfall behind Blue Base filled her ears like static, and from their vantage on the roof, the canyon suddenly felt very wide and impossibly long.

"I," Wash said, looking about as helpless as she did.

So, they were off to great start.

"I just felt," Carolina tried again, "I mean, we thought we should… you know, the past few weeks—I mean, well, we're…"

Wash gave a mildly desperate nod, probably hoping she'd get to the point and save him the trouble of saying it.

Maine broke the standoff. Maine, who never takes the lead, always deferring to her—Maine made a gently impatient noise in his throat and turned to Wash and kissed him.

Wash’s eyes went wide and then closed almost immediately as he leaned in. Carolina couldn’t help but smile, watching them. Maine had a soft, sensual mouth and kissed so good, no wonder Wash was instantly engrossed. They kissed, and Maine cupped the back of Wash’s head with that disarming tenderness of his, and god. It was beautiful to watch.

Wash came up for air, blinking, and before any of them could lose their nerve Carolina moved in for the kill.

He wasn't startled this time, and when he met her lips with his it was deliberate, slow and searching.

“That clear things up a little?” Carolina said, when they broke.

“Yeah,” Wash said softly. “I’d say it does.”

So the thing is, the bunks are small.

There have definitely been some nights of sharing bunks and enjoying some quiet handjobs in the dark. Fitting Maine into a bunk is enough of a tall order, though, never mind cramming another person in there with him. They've done it, but there's not a lot of _moving_. Three people? Forget it.

And then there's the matter of privacy, specifically the fact that there isn't any, in either base. Not that that stops Tucker and Kaikaina from going at it at any hour of the day or night, Kaikaina yelling, "Join in or beat it!" whenever some unfortunate soul happens to walk into the sleeping area. Not that it stops Grif from jacking off like you can't _hear_ him in the dark. Carolina, practiced from her years in the military and half a decade of military school before that, is a pro at getting off in dead silence mere meters from the people she has to be able to look in the face the next day and, _yes_ she can get a partner off too as long as they're also career military, which Wash and Maine both are, and as far as she's concerned, the Reds and Blues need to either knock it off, or _get good._

But if she and Maine and Wash were ever going to have a good time together, the _three_ of them, they were going to need more than a bunk to squeeze into and a pillow to bite.

Carolina deliberated on it for three days before biting the bullet and going to Tucker.

"What do you need the whole base for? For a whole n—oh." Tucker's eyes widened, before a wicked grin spread across his face. "Oh. Oh _shit._ "

"Yes. The whole base, for a whole night. No, you cannot join us—"

"Well, there goes my next question."

"—and no, I am not asking."

"Since when can you just kick us out of our own base?"

"Since you and Private Grif made the sleeping area functionally unusable."

"Point taken. Where are we supposed to go?"

"Not my problem. Have a sleepover at Red Base. Or with Doc and Donut. I really couldn't care less."

"Just so I'm clear on this," said Tucker, "you're gonna fuck both of them. At once?"

"Of course not. I'm running an advanced training exercise. Freelancers only. You guys would just get hurt."

Tucker squinted. "Wait, are you serious?"

Carolina snorted. "No. I'm gonna fuck them. Both of them. At once."

"And you're _sure_ you don't want one more—"

"I will set up proximity mines if I have to."

"Sleepover it is!"

* * *

So here they are, with the base to themselves for the approaching night.

But first, a roof talk. And some preparations.

Carolina's ASL is still pretty clunky and Wash's is even worse, but Maine's never needed a lot of words to negotiate this kind of thing, and Carolina knows what he likes already.

It's Wash she wants to square things with beforehand.

"Maine and I don't have a safeword," Carolina says, and when Wash's eyes widen slightly she thinks maybe that wasn't the best thing to lead with, but whatever. In for a penny. "For… obvious reason. We do hand signals, usually. But for you…"

Wash nods, recovering. "You want me to have one."

"Not saying we have to do anything too intense. But I'd be more comfortable knowing we have one. Just in case things do get…"

Wash cracks a smile, giving her a knowing look. "Intense?"

Maine snickers.

"Yeah," Carolina says, fighting a smirk and failing. "Intense."

"I'm fine with you… you know, taking the lead," Wash says quickly, with a mild flush and a glance at Maine that for some reason she finds funny. She didn't figure her tendency toward dominance had escaped Wash's attention. She's had him held down in his bunk a few times already and he seemed just fine with it. "I'm… you know, versatile."

It occurs to her now that Maine might have told Wash things, back when they were together on the _Invention_. Or maybe Wash just picked up on it. She didn't give him enough credit back then, for how observant he could be. She knows it now, how Wash was aware of so much more than he ever let on.

She smiles. "I can work with versatile _._ "

Can she ever.

Once they've got all that sorted, she has to figure out what to do with the base.

Wash pretty much immediately turned most of the main room of the base into a fitness center, because he's Wash, and on most days Carolina's happy to have a place to lift. For tonight, she pushes the weight bench out of the way against the eastern wall, and turns her attention to the old blue plaid sofa Caboose insisted on hauling back from the Offsite Storage Facility. _Why_ was never quite clear to Carolina, but she's grateful enough for it now. It's still not much for three people, though, especially people the size of Wash, who isn't a small guy in his own right, and Maine, who can make Wash _look_ small by standing next to him.

Unless.

Tossing the cushions aside, Carolina finds exactly what she was hoping for.

It's a pull-out sofa bed.

That she can work with.

She folds the bed out right away to let the squashed mattress reform itself. Sheets aren't going to happen, but there are enough blankets lying around base to make do, including the big striped one Caboose uses for forts. Pillows from her bunk and Wash's.

Good enough.

Then it's a few water bottles stashed by the sofa within easy reach. Her black box with the fun stuff in it tucked underneath the foot end.

Good.

It's late summer in their little canyon, sitting at the edge of the arctic circle on a small planet in the middle of galactic nowhere, hastily terraformed into a variety of little environments for simulation bases. The sun sets this time of year, but sets late and only stays down a few hours. Light still slants in the western side of the base as they gather in the main room of the base and all eyes go to that sofa bed she's got set up and waiting for them.

Getting started can be a little awkward sometimes. Fortunately, Carolina's a planner. And she's planned for this.

She takes off her helmet first, and turns to Wash and Maine with a decisive smirk. "Suits off, boys."

They could've come just in undersuits for expediency, or even plainclothes—they do each own a few things. But there's something fun about watching the armor come off, piece by piece, stripping down from soldiers into humans.

She takes off her greaves, and pops open the clasps on her breastplate one by one, deliberately taking it a little slower than the boys, watching them. When all the white and blue plating is piled on the floor, she nods to Maine. "Take yours off, then help Wash with his."

Maine returns an affirmative smile, and unseals his undersuit, peeling the thick black gel-lined mesh off his shoulders. The scar at the far left of his torso is still visible—where Tucker's energy sword burned straight through him, searing through lung and ribs and flesh. That he is alive is a miracle, and one she could never have brought herself to hope for.

But that's true of all of them, isn't it.

Maine steps up to Wash, his height imposing even over Wash's nearly six feet. But as his hands slide under Wash's suit, slide the mesh over his shoulders and down his arms, Maine sinks to his knees.

Wash lets out a long breath, and his hand comes up to rest on the side of Maine's face. Something passes between them in a long, silent look that tugs at Carolina's chest, as Maine's hands reach Wash's hips and pauses.

Then a smile quirks at Maine's lips and he nudges Wash backward toward the edge of the bed close behind him.

Wash shuffles backward, glancing over his shoulder, and sits down sort of abruptly. But before any awkwardness can set in Maine tugs the suit the rest of the way down Wash's thighs, and calves, and feet and discards it behind him on the floor. Carolina has been watching Wash's dick quietly come to attention as Maine's hands traveled down his body, and if he's not fully hard yet, well. He will be in a minute.

Wash's head tips back, his eyes close, his mouth opens slightly, and an absolutely _beautiful_ noise comes out of him as Maine cups his hips in his big hands and swallows his dick like he's been waiting years for this.

Which, Carolina realizes, he has.

She's getting wet herself, watching, because god, they look good together. She's always loved the sight of Maine on his knees, his massive bulk folded into enthusiastic submission. And she knows how his mouth feels. Maine is a _talented_ submissive. People don't think about that, they think subbing is just about letting go and letting the dom do what they want to you but there's a skillset to submission as well, and Maine is very, _very_ good at what he does.

While Maine lavishes attention on Wash and Wash loses himself in it, Carolina takes a moment to quietly slip a hand into her undersuit, open to just below her navel.

She lets them go for a few minutes, before she commands, "Stop."

Maine pulls off of Wash's cock with a wet sound, and Wash lets out a soft groan, eyes fluttering open to look at her.

Carolina smirks. "You want to fuck Maine, Wash?"

Wash licks his lips and swallows. "Yes, please."

She kneels and pulls her box out from under the bed and tosses Wash a condom (thanks Tucker—for hiding your stash poorly) and a tube of lube. "You better get on that, then."

Both Wash and Maine scrambled onto the bed with an eagerness that is deeply charming. Carolina smiles, and as Wash pops the lube open and settles behind Maine to get him ready, she slides her hand back inside her suit, circling her clit with wet fingers.

Wash gets that focused look on his face, kind of chewing on his lip as he works his fingers in and out of Maine, whose eyes are half-lidded with lazy enjoyment. Wash drags his free hand gently down Maine's back, maybe a little _too_ gently, because Maine turns gives him an amused smile over his shoulder.

"You can give it to him hard," Carolina says. "He can take it. He wants it."

Wash cracks a smile. "What about you?"

She nods toward Maine. "Give him what he wants first. Then you can do what I want. Deal?"

She loves the way Wash's steely eyes widen, the little shiver of anticipation that runs through his body at that.

"Deal," Wash says, and shoots a lopsided smile at her. "Boss."

She smirks, her chest feeling warm with delight. "Damn right."

Wash does take it easy on Maine, at first anyway, and Carolina doesn't object because it's cute to watch. Wash's touch on Maine's larger body is sweet, even romantic, fingertips lingering as they explore the contours of his thick, muscular torso. Maine's eyes close once Wash is inside him, his breathing heavy but the tension melting out of his body as he relaxes under that touch, and only when he lets out that low rumble of pleasure does Wash tighten his grip, and pick up the pace.

Carolina keeps still and silent, even leaving off touching herself, because she doesn't want to interrupt this, or miss a single second of it. Wash is obeying her now, fucking Maine good and hard and the impact of his movement has them rocking together in tandem on the bed. It's rough, but at the same time fluid—Wash's body driving them, Maine's body giving in to it willingly, like the crash of a wave. They don't take long. Wash wraps himself over Maine's back, hands on his chest and face pressed into his spine as he comes with a sharp cry of pleasure.

His hands are already reaching for Maine's cock—so thoughtful, god, he's sweet, but Carolina has other plans for them both—as she closes the distance between them in a few quick steps, shoves her fingers into Wash's thick bottle-blond hair and pulls his face up to meet her eyes.

Wash freezes, instantly, his eyes looking to her for direction. There's a sheen of sweat over his skin, and the light jumps off his liquid gray eyes, making them look almost silver. His lips are parted and she hears a little catch in his breath when she tightens her grip just slightly, tugging on his hair at the roots.

She's seen Wash—seen him with the helmet and without it, seen him unarmored and naked in the locker room, seen him on the battlefield on the right end of a rifle, and bloody in the back of a Pelican from the wrong one. She's seen Wash, the blue-tinted gray of his eyes made bluer in the cold light of the _Mother of Invention_ and grayer in the light of a concrete sim base. She's seen Wash, but since her return—no, really since that day in the holochamber, she's seen him differently. And never has she seen him quite the way she's seen him in the weeks since they found Maine.

"How we doing?" she says quietly, softening her grip.

"Doing good, boss," Wash says, a little breathless. The warmth and eagerness in his voice, the way he says that, makes her shiver with excitement.

She combs her fingers firmly through his hair, pushing it back from his face so the dark roots show, and Wash releases a slow breath. Out of the corner of her eye she can see Maine, settled with his arms crossed under his cheek, looking at them both with an affectionate smile.

Carolina hasn't forgotten that Maine hasn't come yet, but that's kind of the point.

She nods to Wash, rising from the bed. "Sit tight. I've got something for you."

Carolina hasn't had a chance to use this since… well, since _before._ It's been sitting in her black box since she retrieved it from the crash site. Been on her mind for weeks now, but it's not exactly conducive to quick, covert bunk sex. You need time, and space, and some advance preparation.

Out of the box, she lifts her favorite aquamarine silicone dildo with a smooth shaft and a nice girth and a flared base to sit snugly in its black harness.

She strips the rest of the way out of her undersuit nice and slowly, giving the boys a bit of a show, before buckling the straps snugly around her hips. There's a little more softness there than there once was, though she can still feel hard muscle beneath. She wouldn't have been okay with that, once. She thinks she is now. Getting there anyway.

Wash and Maine are both watching her now with utterly rapt attention.

"Wash," Carolina says with a final tug at the straps, "you want this?"

Wash _visibly_ swallows. "Yes, boss."

"Maine," Carolina says, letting a little bit of _command voice_ creep in. "I want you to get Wash ready for me."

Maine rolls up onto his knees in and instant, eyes bright with pleased obedience as he puts a hand on Wash's back and pushes him gently forward on his knees. Wash goes easily, eyes closing, letting out a gasp at the touch of Maine's slick fingers. Carolina opens up another condom and retrieves her combat knife from her armor. Wash's eyes are on her, and Maine's too, and she casually slices the condom up one side, and hands it to Maine, who promptly spreads Wash's ass with the barrier between his hands, and buries his face there.

 _"Good,"_ Carolina can't help saying aloud, slipping her fingertips under the harness to touch herself again. Fuck. They're beautiful, both of them. So good. So good to see them both happy.

Maine eats Wash out with enthusiasm for a minute or two, before reaching for the lube again and gently teasing Wash open with one thick finger. Carolina has two fingers inside herself now, teasing her g-spot and fucking herself to the rhythm of Maine's thrusts, and when Wash groans into the blanket, "Oh my god, _yes_ , _fuck_ , right there _,_ " she can't help it—she presses her fingertips into her g-spot and throbs around her knuckes.

Wash is too caught up to notice her silent shudder, but Maine winks at her.

"All right," Carolina says, catching her breath. "My turn."

Wash takes the opportunity to shove a pillow under his elbows and get comfortable while Carolina positions herself behind him and lubes up her dildo. His ass in the the air looks so pretty, his skin shiny and slick, and it's an easy slide into him, though she takes it nice and slow. Maine, as always, has done his job well.

It's Maine's turn to watch now, lying on his side next to them with his feet hanging off the end of the bed, one arm tucked up under his head, the other hand gripping the blanket. His posture is relaxed, but there's tension in his knuckles, and his cock is flushed dark and so hard she can see him throb. He must be painfully aroused by now, but he knows, without having to be told, that he's not allowed to touch himself without permission.

Carolina takes a moment to reach over and rub his scalp affectionately, murmuring, "Good boy, Maine," before turning back to Wash.

He's also good and hard again after all of Maine's attention, and he breathes a shaky "Please," as Carolina rests her hand back on his hip and starts to move.

Dildos are tricky—you don't have the _feel_ you have with your hands, or your mouth, or a penis, only the response of your partner to go on. Carolina picks up speed once it's obvious Wash is comfortable and enjoying himself, each slap of her hips against his ass drawing gorgeous sounds out of his throat.

She could drag it out, make him beg for it, but he's been good and he deserves this, and Carolina wants, more than anything else in this moment, to make Wash happy.

So she wraps a slick hand tight around his dick and pumps him hard along with her thrusts and lets Wash come again, shuddering under her and pulsing in her grip.

Carolina pulls out of him as gently as possible, undoing the harness as Wash rolls onto his side, still breathing heavily, and moves closer to Maine. His eyes dart to Carolina. "Can I—"

"You can kiss him," Carolina says, still getting herself untangled from the straps. "I'm sure he'd like that.

Wash shifts closer, pressing his mouth to Maine's in a kiss Maine eagerly and hungrily returns. Carolina tosses the harness aside and slides her fingers back into her cunt, three this time, giving herself a bit of stretch and bearing down on her knuckles. She's going to need that.

"Okay," she says at last, drawing her fingers out. "On your back, Maine."

Maine breaks away from Wash and rolls onto his back, looking up at her with hopeful, needy eyes. He's the only one of them who hasn't gotten to come yet, and he's not going to last long, probably, after the wait. That's okay. He's earned it.

"Hands behind your head," she says, and Maine quickly obeys. She rolls a condom on him with a few quick strokes, and adds a little more lube for good measure. Maine's already shuddering with the touch. Carolina pats his chest and looks at Wash. "You can come sit here, if you want."

Wash does, straddling Maine's chest and sitting facing her. Carolina cups his face with one hand, and gives Wash a slow, languid kiss.

Then she rises on her knees, and starts to sink slowly down onto Maine's cock.

Maine lets out a genuinely startled noise, followed by a blissful moan. They haven't done this much. Hardly ever, in fact. Maine's big all over, and actually getting him comfortably inside her can be a challenge she isn't often in the mood for. She's soaking wet and ready for it and there's still an ache as she takes him. But it's a good ache, feeling him fill her up tight. Feeling him shudder with the effort to hold his body still.

She strokes Wash's hair, and kisses him again as she rolls her hips.

Maine's hips stutter up to meet her, and she doesn't stop him, rocking down to meet him as she adjusts and moving gets easier. Before long she's fucking him hard and fast, rocking her hips up and down, gasping and biting frantic kisses against Wash's mouth.

Maine comes hard inside her, his hips jerking up and his cock pulsing so hard it makes her ache again.

As he starts to go soft, his chest rising and falling with his panting breaths, Wash murmurs in her ear, "Can I—"

She lets Maine slide out of her. She's sloppy-wet, and when she flops on her back next to Maine, Wash doesn't hesitate for a minute, just ducks between her legs and goes to town. His mouth on her is hot, his tongue rough on her clit, and he licks and sucks her to orgasm in less than a minute. Carolina doesn't usually make noise. She's trained herself to be quiet. This time, she lets herself cry out a sharp note of pleasure as it crashes over her.

Limply, she tangles a messy hand in Wash's hair and murmurs, "Good boy."

Wash chuckles and wipes his face off with a hand, moving up to lie down between her and Maine. Carolina opens her arms and lets him curl up against her, while Maine snuggles up against Wash's back, wrapping an arm over both of them. They're all a mess, and the blanket under them is damp in several places, and in a minute she's going to have to get up and pee, and everyone's going to be thirsty, and they'll have to clean up and get these blankets into the wash before they even let the Blues back in here.

That's okay. They have the night.

Not quite ready to move, she tugs a blanket up over them. Wash's eyes are already closed, but he's awake enough to murmur, "So, how many condoms did you steal from Tucker?"

"Enough," Carolina retorts with a smirk.

Wash lets out a quiet laugh. "Should make sleepovers a regular thing around here. Good for inter-team bonding. Morale and all that."

Maine rumbles in agreement.

"Hey," Wash says, his eyes fluttering open, glancing over his shoulder at Maine, then back to her. "This is—" He trails off, but his eyes are warm and happy. He lets out a little breath of laughter, and smiles. "Yeah."

Maine makes an affirmative noise.

Carolina smiles. "Yeah."

END


End file.
